


Like a Tree.

by Bunnywest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Fluff, Good Peter Hale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:32:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: For the day six prompt - soul marks, mates, anchors.Stiles' words appear the day after he's born.Peter's appear when he's fifteen.





	Like a Tree.

**Author's Note:**

> Sneaking in another one - I know it's late, I promise to do better next time!

 

Stiles’ words appear the day he’s born.

It happens that way, sometimes, if a soulmate is older. Claudia smiles at the words written in elegant script over her son’s heart, the position indicating a romantic relationship, rather than the platonic soulmate indicated by words appearing on the upper arm.

_“Given your track record, sweetheart, are you sure you want to try that?”_

“What the hell does it mean, though?” Noah asks, frowning at the cryptic phrase.

“I don’t know, Noah, I guess we’ll have to wait and find out. At least we know our boy will have someone.”

“I guess. It’s just such a damned strange thing to say” Noah sighs.

“Stop worrying. Mieczyslaw’s  a gorgeous boy, and he’ll have a wonderful soulmate, won’t you, darling?” she coos at their baby son as he sleeps.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles puzzles over the words on his chest occasionally, but he can’t ever think of a scenario where they’ll apply, so he doesn’t give it too much thought. Whoever this girl is, she’s calling him sweetheart, so that’s a plus. It’s common courtesy to keep your words covered, so the only person who’s seen them is Scott, during their numerous sleepovers. Scott has a generic “ _Thanks_ ” over his heart, and Stiles kinda sorta pities him. How would you even know, with words like that? At least with his words, he’ll know instantly.

And as he matures, he realises that he wouldn’t really mind if it wasn’t a girl who said them, that a nice guy would be just as good. He tells his dad, hesitantly, that he’s attracted to both sexes, and Noah takes it remarkably well. “Whoever it is, son, they’re already out there. I had your mother’s words, and as soon as I said them and she said mine, nothing could have separated us” his Dad reminisces fondly.

Stiles looks at the wistful expression on his Dad’s face, and sighs. One day. Hopefully before he’s a hundred. He’s fifteen, and he’s been waiting his whole life, literally.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s fifteen when the words appear over his heart.

He sees them in the mirror, and once he manages to read them, he snorts loudly, entertained. He can’t wait to meet whoever it is that would say something like that to him. And because he’s always kept his private life private, he covers the words up, and never mentions them to his parents, and never shows them to anyone either. He just waits. He goes on with his life, graduating high school, going to work at the family animal sanctuary, quietly mourning the passing of his parents in a car accident when he’s twenty three, and continues to wait.

He waits another eight years.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles is sixteen, he and Scott go hiking in the preserve. It’s the  weekend, and Stiles is just bored enough that the prospect of walking through the woods holds some vague appeal. Ten minutes in, he changes his mind. “It’s too hot for this, Scotty. Why aren’t we at the pool or somewhere cool? Why are we walking in dirt and leaves? What are we even doing here?” he whines.

“I just felt like doing something different” Scott mumbles.

Stiles looks at him closely. His cheeks are rosier than the warm weather and their short walk warrants, and Scott’s a terrible liar. He narrows his eyes. “Scott, why are we _really_ here? You hate the outdoors, and hiking’s no good for your asthma. What gives?” he demands.

Scott blushes, and in a rush he babbles, “I met my soulmate and it’s Alison! But she’s too scared to tell her Dad, so she’s meeting me here.” He turns pleading eyes on Stiles, saying “Please, please cover for me. We just want some time together. If you could maybe go for a walk or something when we meet her?”

Stiles rolls his eyes so hard that he can see the back of his skull. “Scotty, you could have just told me.”

‘We’re meeting at the gates of the Hale Property in ten minutes. She said she can stay for an hour. Please, Stiles?”

Stiles sighs. "Jesus, Scott. You’re completely gone on her, aren’t you?  Fiiine, I’ll walk with you to the Hale place, and when you two _‘accidentally’_ run into each other, I’ll go for a walk, climb a tree or something. Then I’ll be your cover story - that _is_ why you brought me along, right? Alibi?”

Scott looks sheepish as he nods. They follow the path to the Hale animal sanctuary, a wildlife rescue that’s run by a local man. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever seen him in the flesh, but Scott tells him that he’s forever bringing injured animals into the vet where he works after school.

Stiles thinks it sounds kinda neat, like something he’d like to do someday. Scott looks at his watch and fidgets, and then his face brightens as he looks over Stiles’ shoulder towards the attractive brunette heading their way.

“Hey, Scott!“ She chirps as they approach.

She really is cute, thinks Stiles. He feels a tiny pang of jealousy that Scott, with his generic _Thanks_ , managed to find his soulmate first. “So hey, guys. I’m going to explore these incredibly interesting woods over here for an hour. Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone” he calls,  but his words fall on deaf ears – Scott and Allison are gazing into each other’s eyes, and Stiles knows he may as well not be there.

He sighs, because damn it’s hot, and trudges into the woods. He’s been walking for about forever, mentally awarding himself the _Best Friend Ever_ Award the whole time, when he glances around and realises that he’s veered completely off the trail and is utterly lost. “Dammit” he mutters, and pulls out his phone, hoping against hope that he can get a signal, and possibly use his GPS.

He’s out of luck, and he has no clue where the hell he is. It looks like his earlier quip about climbing a tree is going to come back and haunt him. It’s the only way he can think of to get some idea of his surroundings. “Fuck” he mutters under his breath, as he eyes up the closest tree.

He thinks he can manage it. Probably. He leaves his backpack at the base of the tree, and hauls himself up into the lower branches. So far, so good.

He gets up a little higher with relative ease, and he’s starting to think that maybe this won’t be so bad. He judges that another two or three branches and he’ll be high enough to get his bearings. And after that? Well, he made it up. How hard can it be to get down?

He manages to get up high enough to see around the area, and he groans when he realises exactly how far off track he’s gotten. He can see a large house fairly close by, and he surmises that it’s the Hale Place. At least he knows where he is now, and he can see how to get back to where he’s meant to be. He glances at his watch to see how long until he has to meet Scott and his girlfriend, and his concentration lapses.

He feels himself starting to slip, and screams. The ground comes flying up to meet him, and there’s a flash of pain as he hits his head on a rock, and then nothing.

* * *

 

When Stiles opens his eyes, he finds himself looking into the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, set in the most attractive face he’s ever seen. He blinks, and when he opens his eyes again the blue eyes are still staring at him intently. They belong to a man with an impeccably groomed goatee, perfectly styled hair, and a neck that Stiles wants to sink his teeth into. His eyes travel down the neck to see a muscular chest, wrapped in a tight v neck t shirt, and bulging forearms corded with muscle.

Stiles has never had much of a brain to mouth filter anyway, and the knock to his head must have derailed it completely, because the first thing out of his mouth is “Damn you’re hot. Can I climb you like a tree?”

And Peter Hale smirks as he replies “Given your track record, sweetheart, are you sure you want to try that?”

Stiles gasps as he feels the warmth spreading through his soul mark, the sign that he’s met his mate, and his face breaks into a wide smile. “Fuck, yes” is his breathless reply.

Peter looks him up and down as his own mark warms, and he’s pleasantly surprised. There’s a very attractive youth in front of him, and Peter just hopes to God he has a brain in his head. “Tempting as that is, how about we clean the blood off your head first, and possibly exchange names?” he suggests wryly.

Stiles blushes, but follows Peter willingly enough into the house. Half an hour in Peter’s kitchen is enough to reassure him that his soulmate is as smart as a whip, and as sarcastic as Peter himself.

It’s a perfect match.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles thinks that the universe is an incredibly unfair place, and that his father and his soulmate are the cruelest people alive. Peter is gorgeous, and perfect, and kind to animals, and refuses to touch Stiles beyond some enthusiastic necking for the next two years, citing the fact that his father is the sheriff as some sort of lame excuse. Noah just laughs, tells him to grin and bear it, and invites Peter over to dinner twice a week, just to watch Stiles squirm as he tries to keep his hands to himself.

In retaliation, the day Stiles turns eighteen, he packs an overnight bag, cheerfully waves at his Dad, calls “Don’t wait up!” and heads out to Peter’s to see if this was really worth waiting two years for.

Turns out, it totally was.

 

 

 


End file.
